Recently, every song I've listened to has morphed itself into a Klaine song. Seriously, today I almost started crying at a song during church. It was inevitable that when my friend started teaching me to play Back to Black on piano I would create a Klaine situation around it. And I did. And then I wrote it down. And it was strangely therapeutic. Anyway, I hope you like it.
And guys, if I owned Glee 'The Break-Up' would never have happened.
He left no time to regret
Kept his lips wet
With his same old safe bet
Kurt Hummel walked solemnly into the office.
"Hi Kurt," Lisa, the secretary, said too cheerfully as he passed her desk. He flashed her a forced smile and retreated down the hall to his office/closet. He stopped as soon as he got to the door. Sitting on the desk was a vase of yellow and red roses. Kurt froze.
"My mole in the casting office says there's only one person they're seriously considering for the role of Tony. And his initials are B.A." Kurt held out the flowers, red and yellow roses. He'd picked them out specifically. The yellow ones represented friendship and they red ones love.
"Kurt, they're beautiful. What are they for?" Blaine asked.
"You killed your audition, Blaine. If anyone else got Tony, including me, the wrath on Sondheim would fall upon McKinley like a plaque of Sherwood Alley locusts." He paused while Blaine laughed. Kurt loved Blaine's laugh. "These are to celebrate," Kurt continued. "You."
"You always zig when I think you're about to zag and I- I just love that about you."
Kurt stared at the flowers for a minute more, remembering that moment on the stairs, and then he took the card off the vase and sat down in his chair.
Next to an incredibly cheesy picture of a man in a dog house, it read: 'Kurt, I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. XO XO XO, Blaine'
Me and my head high
And my tears dry
Get on without my guy
"Well," someone said, making Kurt look up from the note. It was Samuel, from design. "Someone's either seriously crushing on you or seriously trying to make up for something."
"The latter," Kurt replied, looking down at his desk.
"Ouch," Samuel said sympathetically. "He cute?"
"The cutest," Kurt stated sadly.
"Well that sucks, I'm sorry. You need to go binge shopping? Isabelle's summoning us to the conference room. I can cover for you," Samuel offered.
"I'm okay," Kurt lied. "I'll be okay." Eventually, Kurt added as an afterthought as he dropped Blaine's note in the trash and watched in float down and settle amongst the garbage. It blended right in.
You went back to what you knew
So far removed from all that we went through
And I tread a troubled track
My odds are stacked
I'll go back to black
Kurt walked dejectedly to the conference room and took his usual spot on Isabelle's left side. Isabelle smiled at him happily.
"Kurt darling, we missed you last night," Isabelle said, referring to the invitation she had given him to come out to dinner. He'd canceled when Rachel invited him to Callbacks. And he'd canceled two times over when Blaine arrived.
"Sorry, an old friend was in town," Kurt said, staring at the table, not looking at her.
Isabelle smiled again and looked at the table. "Alright team, we have to start on winter. It's fast approaching and I want to get started on the designs right away."
An approving mutter was given by all and the discussion started.
"Thigh high boots," someone said.
"Cossack hats," another suggested.
"Fox tail ear muffs."
"None of those are really doing it for me," Isabelle said, cheerful as usual. "Kurt, do you have any ideas?" she asked him.
Kurt looked up from the table and saw everyone looking at him eagerly. "Black," he said simply, because that was how he felt inside: dark, dismal, empty, black.
"I love it!" Isabelle said enthusiastically. "Everyone," she announced. "We are going back to black!"
We only said goodbye with words
I died a hundred times
You go back to her
And I go back to...
I go back to us
"You are the love of my life Kurt, and I am pissed off that I have to learn, for the next year, what being alone is going to be like," Blaine said sadly as they sat in the guidance counselor's office.
Kurt's heart broke a little. "But you're not going to be alone," he assured his boyfriend. "I'm going to Skype you every day and you're going to come visit me in New York every weekend as far as I'm concerned." He paused and took a breath. "But I promise, you aren't going to lose me."
"I love you so much," Blaine had said.
"I love you, too."
He'd promised Blaine that he wasn't going to lose him. But in the end it had been Blaine who'd broken the promise. Kurt couldn't even think about it. He didn't want to think about Blaine with someone else, kissing someone else, loving someone else.
Kurt's phone rang. He pressed ignore as soon as Blaine's caller ID appeared. It rang again. Anger welled up inside of Kurt. He grabbed the iPhone and threw it across the apartment. The screen shattered, and the phone stopped ringing.
Kurt leaned his head back against the apartment wall that he was sitting in front of. He looked at the celling and wondered how stable it was. What it would take to make it shatter and fall and resemble how he felt. He decided it was sturdy. And maybe it was the only thing that was.
He looked back down at the sketch in his lap. It was a black blazer that he was designing for work. It needed something, so he added a chain across the collar. He looked at his design, satisfied for a moment. He added three decorative buttons up the side and smiled. Then his smile faded. He'd seen this blazer before. He'd worn it before, when he sung Blackbird for Pavarotti. When Blaine had fallen in love with him.
Kurt tore the drawing out of his notebook and threw it. It landed next to his broken iPhone. He hated Blaine. He hated what he'd done. He hated his broken phone too, and that black blazer. And he hated himself. He hated feeling this way. He hated everything.
I love you much
It's not enough
You love blow and I love puff
And life is like a pipe
And I'm a tiny penny rolling up the walls inside
Blaine sat down next to him and took his hand. Kurt just stared at him, barely able to breathe. "Kurt, there is moment when you say to yourself, 'Oh, there you are. I've been looking for you forever."' Blaine paused and looked at him, then resumed. "Watching you do Blackbird this week…. that was the moment for me…. about you. You move me, Kurt, and this duet with you would just be an excuse to spend more time with you." And then he kissed him. And Kurt's heart stopped.
Kurt walked through the streets on the way to the Apple store, shattered phone in one coat pocket and credit card in the other. He was glad his internship was paid or he'd never be able to afford a new phone or his apartment or anything really.
It was only seven, but already dark out. The sounds of music playing and people chatting echoed all around him. He passed a music shop with a Beatles record in the window. He stopped and looked at it. It was the White Album, the first album. It was hard to find; no wonder that the store had decided to prominently display it. He'd seen the record before. When he was little his mom had owned a copy. They used to listen to it on an old record player they'd found at a garage sale. Kurt knew for a fact that Blackbird was the eleventh song on the first side. It was his mother's favorite song on the album. His too.
We only said goodbye with words
I died a hundred times
You go back to her
And I go back to
"You know," the lady at the Apple store said to him, "The iPhone 5 will be out in a few weeks. And if you don't want to wait for that you could upgrade to a 4S."
"No," Kurt said to her. "I just want the black one."
"Suit yourself," she said, going into the backroom of the store to get his phone.
"I was with someone."
Kurt stared at the shattered remnants of his old phone sitting in front of him. Maybe Blaine wouldn't have done it if he had just answered him phone that one night when Blaine had called during drinks with Isabelle. It would have been simple. He could have just excused himself for a minute and answered the phone. He could have listened to Blaine's voice and heard his laugh and talked to him and then walked back into the office a few moments later. He could have but he didn't. He should have, but he didn't.
"It didn't mean anything."
It was all his fault. Kurt had ignored Blaine's call, but worse than that, he had ignored Blaine. He was too caught up in himself that he hadn't made time for the most important thing in the world to him. He hated himself.
"Here you go," the Apple store lady said, bring out a case with his new phone. "If you give me a minute I can put everything from the old one back on this one."
"Thank you," Kurt said, handing her the old phone. She took it and set to work, focused on the screen.
"I'm really sorry."
A minute later she handed him the new phone. "You're all set," the woman said. "And all your missed calls and messages will pop up in a few minutes."
"Thank you," Kurt said again, then took the phone and left the store.
Black, black, black, black, black, black, black,
I go back to
I go back to
It was still dark outside, darker, if that was possible, but that could just be the shadows from the grey cloud that was metaphorically hanging over Kurt's head. He walked back on the other side of the road in order to avoid the record shop with the Beatle's record in the window. He didn't want to think about it right now. He didn't want to think about anything. He wanted to die.
His new phone buzzed in his pocket. Then it buzzed again. And again. He couldn't possibly have missed that many messages in the two hour span where his phone was off. When it finally stopped vibrating, he took it out of his pocket and unlocked the screen.
'13 missed calls' the phone read.
Kurt tapped the screen, hoping nothing was wrong. Though there had to be some kind of emergency if anyone had called him thirteen times. He scrolled through his missed calls. All thirteen of them were from Blaine.
We only said good-bye with words
I died a hundred times
You go back to her
And I go back to
Kurt sat down on a bench on the sidewalk and called his voicemail.
"You have 11 unheard messages," the automaton controlling his voicemail said. "First unheard message:"
Kurt gulped. He didn't know if he was ready for this. He knew Blaine had been leaving messages just as frequently as Kurt had been ignoring his calls.
"Hi, it's me," Blaine's voice said. "I'm just making sure you're okay, we didn't really get a chance to talk when I left. Call me back." There was a beep signaling the end of the message.
"Next unheard message."
"Hi, Kurt, I- I sent flowers. I was wondering if you go them…."
"Hey, I um, just calling to check in…"
"Kurt, I know you're just ignoring the calls, but…"
"I feel really bad, horrible actually…"
"You really are never going to answer the phone…"
"I honestly have no idea why I'm still expecting you to pick up. I get it, I suck. If I were you I probably wouldn't answer either. But Kurt, I'm so so sorry. I'll stop calling for today. Maybe I'll try tomorrow. Or maybe I'll just wait for you to call me. When you're ready. I lov… 'Bye Kurt."
The machine beeped again. Kurt sat frozen on the bench with his phone pressed to his ear. Behind him, New York traffic inched along. In front of him, pedestrians walked briskly along, returning from work or going out for the night. But Kurt didn't notice any of it. All he was focused on was the sound of Blaine's voice. It was all that mattered.
"Next unheard message."
"Kurt I know I said I wasn't going to call you anymore, but I need you. I need you to answer the phone."
"Kurt, are we broken up? I don't even know. God, I'm so stupid. I'm such an idiot and I'm sorry."
"Kurt," Blaine's voice started. It was unsteady. "I don't know why I expect you to answer the phone, but god, I just. I need you."
"I needed you and you weren't there."
"Last unheard message."
Blaine was sobbing now. He could barely get through the message. "God! I messed up, I know I- I- I messed up. But I love you and I'm so sorry… I'm sorry… I love you… I'm sorry… I love you."
"End of messages. To end this call, press nine, to hear saved messages press 6, to…" Kurt couldn't hear the automaton. He couldn't hear the taxis honking their horns or the music coming from the clubs or the people talking in the background. All he could hear was Blaine's voice, shaking, breathy, telling him on repeat "I'm sorry, I love you."
"I'm so sorry, Kurt, I really am."
We only said good-bye with words
I died a hundred times
You go back to her
And I go back to black
Kurt brought the iPhone slowly down from his ear and started at the screen. It felt like an eternity before he made the decision. And then he pressed call.
